


Operation: Make It Stop

by moonlitfog



Category: Star Trek
Genre: Advent 2012, Christmas Carols, Language, M/M, Suggestive Themes, attempted humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-17
Updated: 2012-12-17
Packaged: 2017-11-21 08:59:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/595895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonlitfog/pseuds/moonlitfog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A fill for LJ community Space Wrapped's Advent 2012 challenge. The prompt:  James Kirk, reprobate and occasional inebriate, just happens to know the words to every Christmas song in existence. Even the obnoxious ones. And will sing them to anyone in range -- in key, even. The real Christmas miracle? Would be if someone could get him to shut up. </p>
<p>Bones will always find a way. Hopefully this is an acceptable fill for the prompter.</p>
<p>All errors are my own, I don't know anyone involved, don't own or profit from any of this, and just borrow these guys for fun.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Operation: Make It Stop

Jim paced down the hall to Sickbay, strains of a melody floating in the air behind him. When he walked through the doors, he walked over to Christine Chapel, put his hands on either side of her face, and serenaded her.

“Angels we have heard on high  
Sweetly singing over the plains  
And the mountains in reply,  
Echoing their joyous str-”

“Jim,” Bones barked out. “Enough.” Jim broke off and turned with a pout. “Aw, Bones, Chris didn't mind, did you?”

Christine looked between the two men, one pleading and the other with an annoyed scowl. She froze, frantic thoughts racing. ' _Capt. Kirk is my captain, but Dr. McCoy is my boss and I have to work with him every day, but Capt. Kirk is down here every day Dr. McCoy is, oh, damn_.' Breaking away, she snapped, “I'm not choosing between you,” and raced for the store-room like the coward she normally wasn't.

Jim huffed in annoyance and turned to Bones. “You always spoil my fun. I was just singing.”

“The problem is, you never fucking stop. I don't need you down here annoying my staff with endless Christmas songs, you infantile moron.”

“But... but... Bones, 'tis the season.” Blue eyes batted in guileless hurt at Bones.

“Don't even, Jim. Do you need something or are you just here to irritate me, all my staff and every patient around?”

“Bones, you don't have any patients right now.”

“You're annoying future patients, ones that won't even be here until next year.”

“Oh. Oh, that hurts, man. That hurts bad.”

“The pain will stop if you leave. Promise. If you stay, the hurtin's goin' to get a lot worse.”

Jim backed out of Sickbay when Bones grabbed a fistful of hypos and started advancing toward him purposefully. Holding his hands up in a conciliatory gesture, he patted at the air. “Ok, ok. Just calm down. I'm leaving. Everything's all right, Bones.” Jim didn't relax until he was in the hall, at which point he scowled ferociously at the closed doors. “Prick.”

Whirling, he stalked off down the hall, “Dio s'? fatto come noi, Per farci come lui. Rit. Vieni Ges? Resta con noi, Resta con noi!” trailing melodiously in the air behind him.

~O~

When Jim bounced into the mess, Uhura glanced up at him and propped her chin on the heel of her hand. Her fingers curled over her lips, effectively hiding the smile she couldn't quite contain as she contemplated the outraged looks the rest of the crew sported. Jim strode around the room, serenading random beings.

“It's the little Saint Nick  
Little Saint Nick...”

Jim drifted out the door, unholy grin seeming to hover in the air behind him, like an evil elfin Cheshire Cat. The last person regaled up close and personal by their beloved captain buried her head on her forearms and whispered, “Oh good merciful saints, if you'll make him stop I'll start believing.”

~O~

The worst part of the endless singing was that Jim Kirk had a good voice. He sang in tune. He knew all the words and never forgot or fudged one. It had to be that photographic memory, Sulu mused. That had to be how he knew the words to every fucking Christmas song _ever_. After Jim walked up behind him as he sat, quietly minding his own business, damn it, doing his job like the good Starfleet officer he was, and the Captain placed his hands on Sulu's shoulders and sang “Mele Kalikimaka” in his ear _seductively_ , Sulu began imagining taking his katana to the Captain's tongue.

That afternoon found Sulu in Bones's office, directing a harried glare at the grim doctor. “I can't take much more, Doctor McCoy. I'm dreaming about gagging him and tying him to his chair just to get five minutes of quiet. You've got to do something about him.”

Bones arched a brow. “Oh, really? I do, do I? And what do you propose I do to stop the Captain? You think I can just walk on the bridge and take him off duty for singing? You think I can ever prove that he's incapable of running the ship just because he can't keep his damned fool, god-forsaken idiot mouth shut for just two goddamned seconds? Don't you think I'd have shut him up by now if I could?”

Sulu did something he'd never done before and never would have attempted if he hadn't been so stressed. He interrupted Dr. McCoy in full rant. “Just do something, Doc. Make him stop before I lose my mind.”

Bones watched the man, previously unflappable but now obviously cracking under the strain. Things were getting desperate if even Sulu couldn't take it any longer. Bones thought, not for the first time, that Jim Kirk, in Christmas carol mode, could be used as a means of torture. It wouldn't be humane or ethical, but it would be effective.

Much to Bones's dismay, Spock was the next in his office. Spock politely waited for the doctor to invite him in, then stood, arms clasped behind his back as he tried to stare down Bones. Well, he was certainly up for a staring contest with a green-blooded irritating demon bastard child of a computer and a hobgoblin. Neither man flinched for long minutes. Spock was the first to break the silence and Bones felt a flush of triumph as he leaned back complacently.

“Doctor. I assume you have been approached by other crew-members about our Captain and his odd choice of expression.”

“What do you mean, Mr. Spock?”

Spock's eyebrows could compete with Bones's in an expressionistic contest and Bones took great delight in causing those slightly effeminate (yes, it was a low blow but he was nothing if not an honest man) brow wings to form new and fascinating shapes across Spock's forehead. One day Bones hoped to cause a brow to break its bonds and actually launch into flight.

“I would assume other crew-members would have spoken to you about the Captain's incessant renditions of Earth yuletide seasonal compositions.”

“Well, Mr. Spock, what people choose to discuss with me in this office is confidential. Now, do you want something, or are you just here takin' up space?”

Spock's eyebrow did a dip-raise-wiggle before he settled on a half-mast position. Shifting slightly, he tried again. 

“As you are a close friend of the Captain's, and as the Chief Medical Officer on this ship, whose duties are to ensure the physical and mental health of all personnel currently serving on board-”

“Just spit it out, man. What the hell do you want?”

Spock was almost raising his voice above his normally well modulated levels at this point. “For the well being of all, it would be fortuitous if you could encourage the Captain to cease his singing.”

“I'll talk to him, but I'm not promising anything. Damn it, I'm a doctor, not a magician. Now get out of my office, you pompous, officious windbag.”

Spock looked like he wanted to argue some or all of Bones's word choices, but finally left with a barely audible sigh. Bones grinned when he left, well pleased at working the Vulcan into a snit.

Jim promptly waltzed into his office, belting out yet another Christmas song. He stared in fascinated horror as he realized just what Jim was singing.

“On the first day of Cryptmas, my ghoul love gave to me a trip to the mortuary.  
On the second day of Cryptmas, my ghoul love gave to me two murderous shoves and a trip to the mortuary.”

Bones threw a PADD at Jim, who caught it with ease. “What the ever-livin' fuck, Jim? What kind of song is that?”

Innocent blue eyes batted as Jim replied, “A Christmas parody, of course.”

“Well, parody somewhere else.”

“But I thought you'd appreciate it, since it deals with medical issues and shit.”

“A trip to the mortuary is not a medical issue, moron.”

“Picky, picky. Fine, I'll go sing to someone who will appreciate my talent.” He wandered off, singing,  
“Deck the halls with parts of Charlie Fa la la la la la la la la  
Make the Yule time gross and gnarly Fa la la la la la la la la  
Stockings stuffed with ears and fingers Fa la la la la la la la la  
Chopped from all those caroling singers Fa la la la la la la la la.”

Bones dropped his head on his desk and rocked it side to side. “Oh, god. Still seventeen days to go.”

~O~

It wasn’t until Jim serenaded him with “Walking ‘Round in Women’s Underwear” that Bones decided he had to do something in self-defense. If Jim’s singing didn’t cause him to drive forceps through his eardrums, the rest of the crew would lynch him from the coolant tubes in Engineering.

Bones spent time pondering the best way to tackle the problem. Sedation? With Jim’s metabolism, he’d come around too soon. Keeping him doped until Christmas was over was also probably too dangerous. A medically induced coma? Now, that was tempting, but he couldn’t think of a way he could justify it in the medical reports. 

The problem was, he had to keep Jim’s mouth busy. Bones began researching in earnest. 

~O~

Jim was in The Captain’s Chair. Bones’s eyes crossed when he realized that Jim had just segued from ‘Silent Night’ to ‘Chipmunks Roasting on an Open Fire.’ How the hell the man thought those even went together, he’d never know. The bridge fell silent as all eyes pinned themselves to Bones in hopeful anticipation. Jim broke off to shout, “Bones.”

Walking up to the man, he said, “Open wide.”

When Jim’s mouth dropped open in puzzlement, Bones shoved a giant candy cane in between the plush lips. Jim automatically closed his mouth around the candy cane, and his forehead wrinkled in thought. Bones reflected, upon seeing those lips cradling the candy cane, the hint of a tongue flicking, the throat swallowing, that this might not be the best idea he’d ever had. Although, if it kept Jim quiet, he could deal with the ache in his groin.

Tapping Jim’s nose, he said, “You keep sucking that until it’s all gone. If you can do that, I’ll let you serenade me with any two songs of your choice tonight after dinner.”

Jim’s eyes widened, then narrowed. He pulled the cane out and said, “Five. Five songs.”

When Bones would have objected, he snapped his jaw shut at the growl from Sulu. Lips pressed together in anticipated agony, he reluctantly nodded in agreement. Jim grinned and set to frantically working at the cane. The rest of the crew heaved a sigh at the sudden silence.

Nyota stopped him as he was walking in to the turbolift. “Is that thing going to keep him quiet long enough?”

Bones smiled grimly. “I had it replicated with an edible, slow dissolving resin mixed in. He won’t get through that thing for 6 hours, at minimum, no matter how hard he sucks. I hope you all appreciate the sacrifice I’m making for you.”

Nyota hugged Bones in wild exultation, then planted a quick, hard kiss to his lips. Bones was still dazed when he wobbled into Sickbay and collapsed at his desk. It was too much: kisses and hugs from beautiful women, a reprieve from melodic torture, and the sight of Jim Kirk fellating a candy cane.

~O~

Bones was wearily entering his quarters when Jim called to him from down the hall. “Wait up, Bones. I have some singing to do.”

Bones groaned, but stood aside to let the bouncy twerp saunter inside. “Fine, let’s get this over with.”

“Aw, don’t sound like that, Bones. You know you love it.”

“Yeah, I can’t think of anything I want to do more than listen to you sing archaic carols celebrating an over-commercialized holiday created just to cause guilt in parents, grandparents and children.”

“Pffft. Just for that I’m singing non-standard language songs. By the way, what the hell was in that candy cane? I couldn’t even bite pieces off of it. I thought I’d never get to the end of it.”

Bones just smirked and plopped down on the couch and waved at Jim. “Well? Gonna sing or just stand there lookin’ all pretty?”

“Aw, Bones, you think I’m pretty?” 

“Just not right, is it? Pretty men.” Bones snorted in feigned disgust. “Now get it over with before I throw you out on your ass.”

“Aw. You think about my ass, too.”

“Can’t help it. You’re a complete ass. It’s a medical impossibility, but you manage.”

Jim patted Bones’s cheek and Bones narrowly avoided punching Jim in the jaw in retaliation. Backing away, Jim said, “Ok, listen up. I thought all day, while I was licking that hard, thick, long stick. Thought about you-”

Bones was growling. “Get on with it, Jim.”

Jim briefly pouted, then knelt on the floor at Bones’s feet. He launched into ‘Oh, Tannenbaum,’ followed by ‘Heri Za Krismas,’ 'Karera no Holy X'Mas', ‘Petit Papa Noel’ and ‘Don Oiche Ud I MBeithil.’ 

Bones stared at Jim. “You weren’t kidding about no standard songs.” Bones was reluctantly admiring. To Bones’s untrained ears, it had sounded like Jim had even had the accents right. 

Jim pulled himself up and stated with grave dignity, “I never joke about important things like Christmas carols.”

“Ok, dipshit, you’re singing songs like ‘Christmas at Ground Zero’ and ‘The Twelve Pains of Christmas’, and you have the guts to say you never joke about Christmas carols?”

“That’s different, Bones. Parodies are still legitimate Christmas songs. I take all of them seriously.”

“Why? Of all the things in the universe you could care about, why pick something like Christmas songs?”

“Because they’re traditional, and so many are beautiful, and Christmas is all about all the good qualities people forget the rest of the year. Christmas just makes me happy. I want to share that with everyone else.”

His face softened as he looked at the innocent, serene smile gracing Jim’s lips and the relaxed set to his shoulders. He hadn’t seen Jim looking so carefree in a month. He found his eyes lingering on Jim’s form, really appreciating the view for the first time. He’d always known, in an amorphous way, that Jim was attractive. Now, he lost himself in the depth of the blue eyes, the fine nose and lush lips, the strong shoulders and arms, the taut stomach and muscular thighs.

Abruptly, Bones jerked his eyes back up from Jim’s bulge, which he had begun eying speculatively. “Uh. Sorry. I was woolgathering for a minute.”

Jim’s eyes twinkled. “Ah. Is that what the kids call it nowadays?”

Bones planted his foot on Jim’s chest and shoved him backwards. “You’ve sung your songs, now get the hell out and let me call it a night. I’ve had all the fun I can take today.”

Jim laughed and slapped Bones’s knee as he levered himself off the floor and stood. “You got it, man. Remember, cold showers don’t really solve the problem for long and too much lube is too much like a sloppy fuck. Moderation is the key.”

The door was sliding shut when Bones pulled his outraged thoughts together and belted out, “Go piss up a rope, you asshat, I am not-” Jim ambled off down the hallway, laughing even as he dwelt on Bones’s look when he’d been scanning Jim. He stopped laughing when he realized he was going to have to take his own advice since he was rapidly stiffening at the thought of Bones's lips pressing to his skin. He disappeared into his quarters with a sigh of relief.

~O~

Early on Jim’s shift the next morning, Bones showed up on the bridge again. The crew, having listened to fourteen carols at that point, kept their attention fixed on the doctor, hoping for another reprieve from endless singing, no matter how well performed.

Jim ended ‘O Holy Night’ with a flourish and whirled his chair to face Bones. “Well, you have another deal for me today?”

“Same as yesterday.” Bones whipped out an even larger candy cane. 

“Ok, bigger stick to suck means you listen to more songs.”

“Bigger stick to suck means same number of songs and one pain-free hypo.”

“Same number of songs and five pain-free hypos or ten songs.”

Bones pursed his lips, then offered, “Five songs, two hypos and one day where I don’t nag you about anything you eat.”

“Sold, but the three meals are at my discretion. My choice as to which meals and days.”

Bones grumbled, looking mutinous, but finally caved after seeing Chekov’s puppy-dog eyes. “Fine. ”

Jim snatched the candy cane away and ran his lips along the cane before holding the crooked end and licking up the stick and then circling his tongue around the end. After a long moment tonguing the cane, he slid his lips around the cane and slid it deep, hollowing his cheeks as he sucked. Bones felt sweat break out on his forehead as his mouth went dry. Gulping, he all but bolted from the bridge, heading for his office and an intimate encounter with his right hand.

~O~

That night, Jim was looking a little miffed when he strode through Bones's door. “You are evil, Bones. It took me all damned day to get through that thing. I didn't get to sing to the crew at all on the bridge after you left.” The gaze he leveled at Bones was aggravated.

Bones put on a faux concerned expression. “Is that so? That _is_ a damned shame. Was that traumatic? You need therapy now?”

“Prick. Just for that, you're getting all comedy tonight.”

Bones's face fell. That shouldn't have been unexpected, but he was dismayed, in no uncertain terms. He was going to have to learn to control his mouth before the singing started. He dropped down on his desk chair and pillowed his chin on his crossed arms. He looked so much like a forlorn hound dog Jim had to smile.

Jim dropped to his knees in front of Bones and turned Bones to face him before he put his hands on the man's knees. Looking up at Bones intently, he opened his mouth and started singing. After listening to 'I Saw Daddy Kissing Santa Claus', 'Monster's Holiday', I Want a Hippopotamus For Christmas', 'I Yust Go Nuts At Christmas' and 'Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer', Bones was ready to beat Jim to death. 

Rubbing his temples to ease the headache, Bones leaned back in his chair. He was, for once, speechless. Jim stood and walked behind Bones. He settled his hands on the doctor's shoulders and rubbed, pressing his thumbs in sweeping strokes across the shoulder blades and digging the heels of his hands into the trapezius muscles. Bones leaned back into the back rub, enjoying it too much to complain. Jim worked his hands up the column of his neck before fanning his fingers across the skull and ending at Bones's temples. Bones's head was tipped back. Jim stared down at the closed eyes, lashes fanning over his cheeks, the wrinkle between the brows smoothed for once, lips curved in a slight smile, and his breath hitched.

A wave of arousal flushed through him and he barely resisted leaning over to kiss his way to Bones's mouth. He patted Bones's shoulder as he drew away. “Feel better?”

Bones peered up the gruff quality suddenly infusing Jim's voice. “You comin' down with somethin', kid?”

Jim backed away. “No, no. I'm fine. Hey, I'll see you tomorrow, all right? I've got some reports I have to finish up.”

Bones sat up. “Yeah. OK. Sure. Uh, thanks. For.” He waved his hand in the general direction of his upper body in a vague 'don't make me say it' way. 

“Oh. No problem. Later, Bones.”

Jim all but fled from the room, walking awkwardly to disguise the burgeoning hard-on he was developing. He'd been attracted to Bones for years, and flirted with him in a 'kind-of joking, but secretly serious' way pretty much every day. This development, though, the erections from just being with the man, the fantasizing he was doing recently, this was very new and a little unsettling. He was going to have to do something about this.

~O~

Bones pondered long and hard. The candy canes were too much. He couldn't give Jim one every day from now until Christmas because he had to jack off every time he saw Jim with his lips wrapped around one, _and_ every time the image crossed his mind, _and_ just to get to sleep now. He was going to be rubbed raw if this continued. What else could he use to get Jim to keep quiet? The answer finally presented itself in all its elegant simplicity. Peppermint jawbreakers. There couldn't be anything obscene about that, could there?

~O~

The next day, Bones presented a string of peppermint balls tied together in a line. Jim's eyebrows wiggled and he said, “Kinky, Bones. You trying to tell me something?” Bones was tired enough he missed the implications.

“Just suck, you moron.”

“Well, I'm afraid this requires renegotiating our deal.”

“Five songs, Jim.” The flat tone did not invite debate.

“Five songs and five pain-free hyposprays.”

Bones stared at Jim repressively. “Jim. Five songs.”

“Nooo, Bones. You want me to suck candy anal beads, you give me something in return.”

“Oh, my god. Those do _not_ go in your ass.”

“They sure look it. They'd probably tingle and make everything minty-fresh, too.”

“Do. Not. Even. Think. It.”

“Bones, five songs and five pain-free hypos or I sing all day.”

“Fine.” Bones stared around at the crew. “You all owe me. And it's hyposprays for everyone at your next physicals. Whether you need 'em or not.”

Bones stomped to the lift, ignoring Jim's smirk. He especially did not stare at Jim's mouth wrapping around the first ball, and definitely did not spend _all_ day imagining using the string in ways both medically inadvisable and unsanitary.

~O~

The songs that night were traditional religious ones, 'Away In A Manger', 'We Three Kings', 'Ave Maria', 'Silent Night' and 'What Child is This'. It was actually nice, even if Bones would rather voluntarily dive into a white dwarf before admitting it. Jim did have a good voice and he was starting to enjoy listening to him sing. It was just the subject matter he didn't appreciate. Much.

This night they shared a drink after the serenade, just relaxing together as they hadn't in weeks. Eventually they parted, each to quietly take comfort in fantasies.

~O~

The next few days followed the same pattern, with Bones presenting some new permutation of candy for Jim to enjoy, and Jim finding some way to make the offered candy seem obscene, and then turning the item into an opportunity to show off his oral skills. Jim was a master of food sex. The trade off changed, depending on the candy, but always included five songs and some other desired thing. Jim didn't up the ante until Christmas Eve.

~O~

On Christmas Eve, Jim changed the rules. He’d decided he’d had enough of staring and wanting and needing; he’d had enough of satisfying himself with explicit daydreams and his right hand (switching off with his left hand for a little variety). He was making this Christmas the start of something new, repercussions be damned. If it changed their friendship, and he knew it would in one way or another, it would be OK. After all, nothing ventured, nothing gained, and they’d never have more if they didn’t take a chance.

When Bones brought his latest treat to keep Jim’s mouth busy, it was rocket shaped with a narrowed base. Jim began suspecting a few days ago that Bones had gone from being embarrassed at Jim’s sexual innuendos to deliberately causing them. He was staying on the bridge longer, watching Jim suck and lick the items he brought before he fled to Sickbay. Yesterday’s candy ‘cane’ had definitely been dildo shaped, and this one…

“Bones. Kinky. A butt plug? Wow. I am really getting into this whole candy sex toys deal.”

Bones flushed, but kept his eyes on Jim instead of looking away. “Well, I have to keep your interest somehow, and since the way to your heart is through your dick…” He trailed off when he realized what he’d said. That was when he looked away.

Jim savored the moment, but didn’t leave Bones twisting too long. “You know this requires a renegotiation, right?”

Bones dryly replied, “Yeah, Jim. I was aware. What do you want this time?”

“Dinner and one song.”

Bones blinked. Suspiciously, he glowered at Jim. “One song? What fresh hell is this gonna be? A thirty minute rock opus? You gonna torture me with a whole fucking opera? What?”

“No, no. Just keeping it simple. You know. As an early Christmas present.” Jim waggled his eyebrows and licked a stripe up the side of the candy plug. Bones watched hungrily as Jim pressed the tip between his lips and slid it inside then pulled it back out, pumping it in and out several times. He pulled it out with a pop and licked his lips lasciviously before smiling wickedly.

Bones let out a ragged breath, then gruffly snapped, “Fine, Jim. I’m holdin’ you to that.” With a glare, he stomped off. He waited until the lift doors closed, then leaned back against the wall and wiped his brow. He’d been tempting himself lately, unable to resist making candy that was suggestive at the very least. The last few days, they’d been blatantly sexual.

He must be a masochist, but it was too tempting to watch the man’s mouth and tongue working over whatever he brought. A couple times he’d had a hard time tearing himself away before he lost his mind and threw Jim to the floor to take him right in front of the bridge crew.

Bones was almost sad the days of the Christmas carols were coming to an end. He wouldn’t mind this going on every day. He might have to do something about this. He thought Jim was giving him special shows. Jim’s eyes never left his when he was playing with the candy. He never once looked at Sulu or Chekov, never even tried to annoy Uhura. His attention was fixated on Bones. Yes. Tonight, if it seemed the right opportunity, he was going to take this a little further.

~O~

Jim was at Bones’s door with a loaded cart from the mess right at 1800 hours. Bones stared at him, mouth watering. Jim had cleaned up and put on civvies: a sapphire shirt that intensified the blue in his eyes, and tight black jeans. There was a hint of aftershave, a trace of masculine musky scent that tantalized, making Bones want to lean in and chase the aroma to its source.

Bones stepped back, letting Jim by and –

“Jim, what is that? Is that steak? Peach cobbler? By all that’s holy, how’d you do this?”

“I’m the captain. I can do _anything_.”

“Except stay in one piece.”

“Hey, it’s job security for you, man. Don’t bitch. Besides, it gives you a chance to keep up on your cutting edge medical knowledge.”

“Moron. One day I won’t be able to fix you.”

Jim leveled a serious gaze at Bones. “That’ll never happen. I’ll always come back and you’ll always fix me.”

“Don’t want to have to fix you. Want you to stay healthy, you masochistic brat.”

“Good thing for you I am a masochist since you like inflicting pain by hypo so much.”

“Only with you, Jim. You’re special. In that brain damaged kind of way.”

“Ouch. You wound me.”

“Good. We gonna eat or what?”

Jim laughed. “Yeah. Don’t want Chef Parker to feel slighted after he did such a good job here.”

They dug in, savoring the delectable food. Both men were quiet, working through and discarding plans for the evening. When dinner was finished and the tray left in the hall for an ensign to collect, Jim urged Bones to sit on the sofa.

Bones stared at Jim suspiciously. “What? Why? I always sit at my desk to listen to you sing.”

Jim sighed. “Just sit on the sofa, Bones. Humor me.”

Bones narrowed his eyes before plopping down as directed. He folded his arms in mute rebuke but raised a brow when Jim sat next to him, a little closer than normal. Jim watched him for a moment, slight smile at odds with the serious, thoughtful, eyes.

The song was a surprise. It wasn't a song Bones ever would have associated with Christmas if not for the words about snowfall. It was sung quietly, and spoke of loneliness and finding one's way. At his somber query about the song, Jim responded, “It's called 'A Snowflake Fell'. I've been lost a long time.” After a deep breath and a glance at Bones he continued, “These past few weeks I've been feeling like everything will be OK.” 

Bones snorted. “Well, I'll tell you something, kid. Snowflakes don't feel anything like kisses. Snowflakes are just wet and cold. This is what a kiss feels like.” With that, he slid his hand around Jim's neck and leaned in to show him what he was talking about. 

After long breathless moments, they finally parted. Jim leaned back and laughed. “Way to kill the mood, man. Here I was planning to seduce you.”

“I'm from the South, Jim. I'm a gentleman when it's called for, but this don't call for gentlemanly; it calls for action.” Rising, he grabbed Jim and dragged him toward the bedroom. “Let's go, boy. The South's arising and you're goin' to show me just what you've learned to do with your mouth these past few weeks.”

 

Merry Christmas, Seasons Greetings, or (fill in with whatever appropriate wish makes your heart happy)!

**Author's Note:**

> I loved this prompt and started it last year for my own amusement. Well, life happened, and it stayed unfinished. I figured I might as well finish it and then a lot more life happened. So, this got a not very good ending with a lot less smut than I originally planned. I may write a sequel sometime to fix that, but for now I just don't have the energy. Sorry for the porn fail. I guess this is where you get to use your imagination... :( 
> 
> If you see errors feel free to let me know. 
> 
> I did try not to inundate people with too many lyrics. I don't know (or was too lazy to look up) some of the composers/performers. For the ones with performers, it's either the only version I found or my favorite version of the song. The songs I used or mentioned are (in order):  
> Angels We Have Heard On High - Traditional, can't remember who does my favorite  
> Dio S'e Fatto Come Noi - lyr. Gino Stefani, comp. Marcello Gombini  
> Little Saint Nick - comp. Bryan Wilson and Mike Love, perf. Beach Boys  
> Mele Kalikimaka - comp. Robert Alex Anderson, perf. Bing Crosby  
> 12 Days of Cryptmas - perf. the CryptKeeper (John Kassir)  
> Deck the Halls With Parts of Charlie - perf. the CryptKeeper (John Kassir)  
> Walking Round in Women's Underwear - comp/perf. Bob Rivers  
> Silent Night - Traditional, perf. Johnny Mathis  
> Chipmunks Roasting on an Open Fire - comp/perf. Bob Rivers  
> Oh, Tannenbaum - Traditional  
> Heri Za Krismas - comp. Jay Althouse  
> Karera no Holy X'Mas - comp/perf. Glay  
> Petit Papa Noel - comp. Raymond Vincy & Henri Martinet, perf. Tino Rossi  
> Don Oiche Ud I MBeithil - perf. Altan  
> Christmas at Ground Zero - comp/perf. Weird Al Yankovic  
> The Twelve Pains of Christmas - comp/perf. Bob Rivers  
> O Holy Night - Traditional, perf. Johnny Mathis  
> I Saw Daddy Kissing Santa Claus - comp/perf. Kip Addotta  
> Monster's Holiday - perf. Bobby Boris Pickett  
> I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas - comp. John Rox, perf. Gayla Peevey  
> I Yust Go Nuts at Christmas - comp/perf. Harry Stewart (as Yogi Yorgesson)  
> Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer - comp. Randy Brooks, perf. Elmo & Patsy  
> Away In A Manger - Traditional, perf. Martina McBride  
> We Three Kings - Traditional, perf. Celtic Woman  
> Ave Maria - Traditional, perf. Sarah Brightman  
> Silent Night - Traditional, perf. Nat King Cole  
> What Child is This - Traditional, perf. Martina McBride  
> A Snowflake Fell (And It Felt Like A Kiss) - comp/lyr. James Allan, perf. Glasvegas
> 
> And.. holy shit, that's a lot of songs. I tried to pick some that maybe everyone isn't aware of. I own most of these (including all the parodies) and know all the words to all but 8 of these songs. Guess that says a lot.


End file.
